


Orbit

by Traviosita9124



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 3X11 bouncing back, F/M, One Shot, Spoilers (Kinda), short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are meant to maintain their orbit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> After watching the latest episode, this idea kept tugging at my sleeve. I decided to get it out of my head and onto the page since I have a ton I should be doing for grad school and didn't want to be totally distracted. 
> 
> Written in an hour and un-beta'd. And yes, I realize I may have played it loose with the idea of an orbit near the end. I'll be honest, I was more interested in getting it written than researching.

And just like that, they went back to being FitzSimmons. 

 

It seemed impossible to Jemma, but with a quiet reintroduction, a nearly-shy fistbump, and a nervous smile, she had her best friend back. There was even a moment, somewhere between their handshake and their knuckles whispering against each other, that had her convinced she was looking at the scrawny boy she’d met twelve years prior, but it was gone before she could fix it in her memory. 

 

It was no matter, though, and Jemma quickly brushed it off in order to focus on what really mattered: science. Or, more specifically, science with Fitz. They had reports of new Inhumans each day and sporadic reports of Malick’s shadowy activities to keep them busy. It took them awhile to shake off the bad habits they’d formed over 18 months, but bit by bit they managed it. Slow and steady and strong, they rebuilt themselves.  

 

The first thing that came back was their ability to finish each other’s sentences. Within the first week they were bouncing ideas back and forth across the lab, sometimes quickly enough to make Lincoln’s head spin. Despite the young doctor’s quiet grumblings, Jemma couldn’t bring herself to stop. Being able to banter easily with Fitz once more felt like the onset of spring after a too-long winter: bright and invigorating and too precious to give up. 

 

The blending of their projects came next. Officially speaking, Jemma was meant to be helping Lincoln study, analyze, and improve the Indexing process while Fitz created any new tech they might need, but the arrangement didn’t last long. He made a habit of stealing her lab notebooks while she wasn’t looking, using her observations to better guide his creations, and Jemma soon found pieces of Fitz’ projects littering her workbench at the end of the day. Their stations even inched closer together until they were eventually pressed right next to each other, leaving them within arm’s reach at all times. 

 

Finally - thankfully! - they fell back into orbit. 

 

Jemma would have liked to say that it had happened as naturally as breathing, that she hadn’t even noticed the utter lack personal space between the two of them, just as it had happened at sixteen, but that would have been a lie. She did notice. 

 

Oh, did Jemma notice. 

 

She could feel the heat radiating off him when Fitz stood just behind her and read her screen over her shoulder. The faintest whiff of his cologne left her stomach somersaulting, and she found herself anticipating the gentle brush of his fingers against her arm whenever he might want her attention. But perhaps what Jemma found herself most aware of were his lips. Fitz had developed a habit of brushing his fingertips against his mouth when he was puzzling out a problem, which wouldn’t have been a big deal in the slightest if it hadn’t served to remind Jemma of their kiss. More and more frequently she found herself wanting to replace his fingers with her own mouth, and she had to grip the edge of her lab bench to keep herself in check. 

 

But while Jemma prided herself on being a strong-willed woman, there was only so much a person could take. 

 

Which was the only explanation she had - weak as it might be - for why, when he wore the light blue button down that perfectly matched his eyes and hovered over her left shoulder long enough to nearly drive her mad, Jemma turned her head, brought her hand up so her fingertips could direct his stubbled jaw toward her, and pressed her mouth to his. 

 

Fitz’ lips were as soft as she remembered, his breath just as warm as it puffed against her mouth in surprise as she dared to let her tongue run over his full lower lip. Jemma felt him freeze next to her, every muscle going stiff with surprise. Any hope she felt sank like a stone deep into the pit of her stomach, and Jemma squeezed her eyes tight so she wouldn’t have to see the disappointment in his eyes as she pulled away. 

 

“Fitz, I’m sorry-”

 

“Jemma-”

 

“-we said we’d be friends-”

 

“Jemma,  _ wha’  _ are you on abou’?”

 

“-and I’ve  _ ruined  _ it!  _ Again _ !”

 

Her eyes startled open when she felt Fitz’ hands wrap around her shoulders, gently guiding her away from the bench to face him fully. For the first time in a decade Jemma found that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it terrified her. Just as she was ready to apologize once more and beat a hasty retreat to her bunk, Fitz did the unthinkable. 

 

He cupped her cheeks in both hands and pulled her in for a gentle kiss, releasing the knot of tension that had become her stomach. Jemma sank into it, content to follow his lead, her lips and tongue easily matching Fitz’ as he made careful work of exploring her mouth, heedless of who might pass by the lab and see them through the large plate glass walls. 

 

Years later, when their children pause in their attempts to create new experiments their parents had yet to think of and pause to ask how exactly she had known their father was the one, Jemma will smile and think of that moment. She’ll think of the easy back and forth, even after fighting so long and so hard to return to each other, and simply reply that some things - no matter how improbable - are simply meant to maintain their orbit.


End file.
